


An Army of Five

by Rivea12



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Band Fic, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivea12/pseuds/Rivea12
Summary: After 200 years together Andromache, Booker, Joe, and Nicholas, are shocked to see visions of a new immortal during one of their shows. Not only is she being held by a familiar foe, but her musical voice calls for them on a visceral level.  Will they make it in time to save her from those who wish to keep them in cages, or will they be too late?
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	An Army of Five

**Author's Note:**

> 6000 words later and here's a band/rescue fic for you never asked for. I've linked a Spotify playlist of songs that have inspired me throughout this piece that I hope you give a listen to. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but, love them all so deeply. 
> 
> Songs used throughout this fic: No time to Die by Bille Eilish
> 
> Bring me to life and The Game is Over by Evanescence
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4QGGH1KlTEWhSdGxoyPRnR?si=y1RzingITACa4QWgdq7AKA

**An Army of Five**

When you’ve lived as long as they’ve all had, you start to see the beauty in some of the simplest things. The brushstrokes of a hundred-year-old painting shine more vibrant when you’ve once broken bread with the artist. The uneven cobblestones beneath your feet that had one time held your very life in its hands, as your blood seeped within its cracks with your last breath, feels as solid as when you regained it once more. Andromache, Booker, Joe, and Nicholas, have been roaming this earth for centuries, never leaving a footprint, never staying in one location for too long. They’ve seen the good and the bad that have come out of this world, and yet, music has always kept them grounded through it all.

They dreamed of each other’s music for years before meeting. Andromache, or Andy now, had been first; her melodic voice a beacon for them to follow. Joe and Nicky had come next. Joe’s fingers had glided along the neck of a 10th-century lute, paired so effortlessly with Nicky’s percussions, as if they were always destined to play for one another. Booker had been last and the hardest on them all. Each ring of his piano in their dreams had felt like a cry for help. His loneliness and pain had been so saturated within his music that the three of them would wake many times with tears in their eyes, feeling just as broken. His sound had changed once they had finally found him. No longer did it feel like a cry for help, but the pain was never truly gone.

Although the dreams had stopped when they met, their passion for music did not. For some, they believed it to be destiny, in which they were meant to find one another; to play with one another. For others, an end to the solitude that came with immortality. 

When Nicky had suggested they start a band, many were opposed at first. Unlike Andy and Book, he had spent the last two centuries immersing himself in the rise of performative music. In between lulls of missions and countless bodies, Nicky would find himself dragging Joe to the nearest club or bar that had any form of live music. If they stayed in a place long enough, he’d splurge on a few concert tickets for them all, where they’d spend the night dancing and drinking together. In those moments, he felt truly free, just another body escaping the troubles of their daily lives with a few hours of raw performance. They had spent years hiding, running from those who’ve hunted them, racking up a series of bodies over the years to risk any kind of exposure that came with performing for others. Things had shifted when Copley had joined them.

Copley had once been like the many before him, hunting them in blind grief after the loss of his wife but, it had not always been like that. They had taken jobs for him in the past, saving children in war-ridden countries, taking part in CIA missions with too many blacked-out reports to have even existed. There was a time when they felt his directed guidance in the cases they received, had given their specific skill set a purpose. However, he felt their life was a gift, one they knew he was not meant to give. His betrayal had hurt more than the experiments done to them. In the end, they understood. They had all lost someone throughout the years, and so much grief could break even the strongest of men. A change of heart had led him to stand beside them as they had fought for their escape. With an act of repentance, he had been the main instrument in maintaining their invisibility. He showed them the good they had done throughout the years, grounding them to their humanity. They didn’t have all the answers, but they had a purpose. When they left a footprint in the sand, snow, or ether, Copley was there to sweep it away. It allowed them to not only stay protected from those who wanted to put them in cages but, provided them with a sense of normalcy. It was with that security in mind that they allowed themselves to even consider Nicky’s request. It gave them the cover they needed to be seen around the world while also allowing them to express their passion in the music, a bond that’s held them together for so many years. 

In the end, Copley managed their tours and business exposures in correlation with the darker work they did on the side, as the group finally picked up their instruments. It was common now to see Nicky on the drums or center stage, singing the songs they wrote, Booker on piano or bass if it called for it, with Joe on guitar, and Andy as their lead vocalist. They called themselves The Old Guard as a nod to the work they’ve continued to do and the years they had ahead of them. 

**☼☼☼☼☼☼☼**

There was a certain comfort that came with sitting in the dressing room before a show. They all shared one together, refusing to be separated even by thin walls. Joe and Nicky could be seen sitting on the couch, Nicky, with his feet on Joe’s lap as he scrolled through his social media engagements with fans. If it was a packed enough show he’d have their fans screaming chants throughout the stadium for them all to hear. Joe and Booker would spend their time working their strings before a show, going through the setlist. Book would always be about one or two glasses of whiskey in before they had even begun, so it was better to be safe than sorry. By the time they reached the stage, Book would be fine, finding another high in the crowds’ response with their performance. Andy and Copley were always going over last-minute preparations for after the show, doing background checks on those who had brought tickets, and finalizing details of their next mission. The only indication that showed Andy loved what they did, as much as the rest of them, was when they would catch her humming the songs they were set to sing for the night, while sharpening her ax. 

Tonight would be one of their bigger shows of the season. Rumors had spread of their ghost of a band for years. They made no albums, no merchandise; instead, their shows were spread by word of mouth. The number of underground venues they found themselves in, had created its own steady following of loyal fans. 

“They say the show is sold out.” Murmured Nicky as he rose from the couch.

“At this point, Booker will have more groupies following him than he can handle.” Putting down his phone after checking the numbers, he looked at the outfit he’d be wearing for the night. He’d chosen a classic black crop top with some washed-out black skinny jeans. He accompanied the look with a red belt to go with their theme of black and red for the night. As Nicky threw on the shirt, he caught Joe watching him from behind and winked. While he loved putting himself on display for others during these shows, nothing warmed him more than seeing his lovers’ eyes on his body, knowing that he was his and his alone at the end of the day.

“There is not enough baklava in the world to deal with another one of them.” Andy said.

“Copley was barely able to lose the last one from San Diego.” They laughed as Andy threw on her classic leather jacket, finishing preparations for the night. 

“Ah, Sarah.” Book sighed wistfully. “Where she was crazy, she made up for it in bed.”

They had kept their connections with the public minimal over the years, a condition they had put in place when their music had started to gain more traction. Booker, and more rarely Andy, would stray occasionally, releasing excess energy with those they found on tour. Nothing moved past a single night but, there was always one that never really got the message. 

“Well, none of that tonight. Copley’s got another mission for us. The kidnapping of some government officials’ daughter, we leave tonight.” Tucking her ax into the secret compartment of her gig bag, she headed for the stage. The padded compartments were best suited for some of their sharper weapons, easily enough concealed by their instruments. 

By the time they had hit the stage, the lights had been dimmed, and they could feel the hushed excitement from the crowd. As Booker began to play the piano, signaling the beginning of their first song, the screams rose throughout. 

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?_

_Leading you down, into my core_

_Where I’ve become so numb, without a soul_

_My spirit’s sleeping somewhere cold_

_Until you find it there, and lead it, back, home_

The heat from the lights bared down on their shoulders as Andy drew in the crowd with her voice. By the time Nicky’s drums added itself to the melody; they were all lost to the music. This was one of their favorite songs to start the night off. Their lives lay bare within the lyrics to an unknowing audience. It was in these moments they genuinely let go of the past.

_Wake me up inside_

_Wake me up inside_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_Bid my blood to run_

_Before I come undone_

_Save me from the nothing I’ve become_

Andy and Joe danced freely around the stage, amping each other up as Nicky took up vocals in the back. Book had brought out his bass by then, joining the other two at the front, much to the crowd’s enjoyment. They were gearing up for the second to last chorus when it happened. Flashes of sand crossed before their eyes while the heat of a desert sun bore down on their necks. They watched as the eyes of a fallen female soldier sought them out, dimming as blood gushed from a wound at her neck. There was a moment of silence, the band having stopped playing in their shock.

Each member looked at one another in confusion. Could there be another of them so soon, an immortal? Book looked angered in his acceptance. Joe and Nicky looked towards one another with a determined confirmation. They committed every moment to memory for them to consult later. With shaking hands, Andy brought the mic back up to her lips, remembering where they were. Andy could do nothing for her now, for the girl with the liquid brown eyes, fading with her death. The tears they found in each other’s eyes by the end of the song could not be excused as anything other than the pain they felt for this girl.

_Bring me to life_

_Bring me to life_

_Bring me to life_

They had played three more songs before they finished for the night, unable to go on after the revelation that there was another one of them out there, defenseless and alone. Joe had grabbed for one of his notebooks, drawing out what he could remember of the girl. Dark skin with shoulder-length hair, tags around her neck. 

“What the hell was that out there?” asked Copley as he met them back in the dressing room. They had looked rattled on stage, performing almost robotically after their first song. As he looked at them now, he could see that something was wrong. Booker’s hands shook as he poured himself drink after drink, filled so high it overflowed onto the table. Nicky looked to have cemented himself along Joe’s side as the latter drew furiously in his book. Andy was the worst of them all. Her hands raked through her short hair as she paced frantically around the room. 

“I saw a woman.” Nicky called out to the others. “A Black woman, mid to late twenties.” Nicky looked around the room as he waited for a report from the others. 

‘There was another woman with a hijab.” Joe noted, turning to Booker next. “What did you see?”

“I saw part of a name tag. Nile, I think.” He squeezed his eyes shut at the image of her slain body flashed before him. “She’s a child.” He called out, looking at them all. “We have no time for this.” A cry of outrage rose from both Joe and Nicky, Andy still lost in her own thoughts.

“And what is it you expect us to do Book, leave her? She is alone and scared, not knowing what is happening to her. You of all people should know what that’s like.” Said Joe, looking at the others for support.

“She’s a Marine.” Andy called out over them. They had all turned to her in unison, hearing the resignation in her voice. “Combat. Or near combat duty. Afghanistan.” They watched as she fell into one of the chairs, head held between her hands.

“It’s been 200 years, and yet I can still hear her voice so clear in my ears.” That was another thing that had shocked them all. In between flashes of her death, they heard the sweetest of voices. Snippets of gospel hymns taunted their ears as they felt her become one of them.

Standing up, Andy reached for her bags with a weary sigh. “If she is really one of us, we have to find her before anyone else. Pack your bags. We still have a mission tonight. We get in, we get out, and then we go for the girl, together.” 

**☼☼☼☼☼☼☼**

Gasping awake, Nile clawed at the darkness around her. The ringing of music accompanied her shuddered breaths as she reached for the gap in the supposed fabric that surrounded her. Pulling free, she found herself staring at a myriad of black body bags, one that she herself was in. With shaking hands, she reached for the bag closest to her. Pulling down the zipper, Niles’s eyes widened as she found herself staring into the lifeless face of her unit member. Blood splattered along their charred face, coating the horrific scene before her. With panicked breaths, she frantically started revealing the faces of those around her. Even with the tears in her eyes, clouding her vision, she could identify each member of her unit. Her stomach turned as she glanced down at her own body covered in blood. Grasping at her neck, she remembered the slice of a knife and the searing pain before everything had gone dark. While not a scratch had been left on her body from the wound, the evidence of her soiled uniform said otherwise. 

Stumbling free from the bag’s confines, she made her way towards the doors of the moving van. Even if she didn’t know what had happened to her or why she was the only one to survive the attack that killed so many of her closest friends, she knew she couldn’t be found amongst the bodies. Throwing the doors open, she looked out at the endless desert before her.

Bracing herself for impact, she jumped, rolling with the force. With her heart pounding from the adrenaline of the jump, she laid motionless on the sand, staring up at the endless blue sky. A series of questions racked her brain as she closed her eyes against the blinding sun. What had happened to her? Why was she still alive? Who were those people within her dreams? Rolling on to her knees, she pushed up from the ground. She had just started to make her way towards the road when the sounds of breaks screeching against the asphalt stopped her. Looking behind her, she watched as the armored van started to make its way back to her. When she noticed there were no plans of stopping, instead watching as the van sped closer, she turned, breaking into a run.

It was the pain she felt first; the heat of the bumper searing into her back as it threw her off the road. As she lay gasping on the ground, she watched through slit eyes as blurred figures reached for her. Screams burst from her lips as they lifted her back towards the van. She fought them at first, nails clawing at the hands that held her. It proved futile, as the pain became too unbearable, and she succumbed once more to her injuries. 

When she had woken, she stared at the cell bars that surrounded her. Rising to her feet, she heard the clash of chains, signs of the cuffs clasped around her wrists. Other than the rapidly fading marks on her skin, there was not a scratch on her. Niles’ body shook as she took herself in. She had felt herself die from the impact of the van, and yet here she was. Pushing down her rising panic, she tapped into her marine training. The first step was figuring out where she was. Looking around, she found she was alone. The room was bare of any furnishings besides the shackles that held her to the wall. She discovered that they contained enough slack for her to make her way to the bars. One guard stood a few feet from her. At the sound of her presence, she saw him reach for his radio. It wouldn’t be long now before she found out who her real captives were.

Bracing herself at the sound footsteps approaching, Nile pressed herself against the back of her cell. If they wanted her, they would have to come in and get her. She was naïve in thinking that she could somehow escape with her wrists still bound, but she would go down fighting if nothing else. 

“Ms. Freeman, so glad to see you’re awake.” Ignoring him, she took in the people responsible for her capture. The man in question was short, average build. He wore a black suit, with his pressed white shirt, untucked; a glaring contrast against her cell’s dirtied walls. His brown hair lay over his eyes, giving him a boyish look. What he lacked in muscle he gained in hired brawn, five militant soldiers stood at his back. Although she could not clearly see their faces over their masks, she could not mistake the cold chill she felt run over her when their eyes met. 

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” She readied herself for a fight as she watched the men approach. Once the doors were open, she didn’t hesitate. Grabbing for the gun off the first man, she felt her shoulder pop from the strain of the chains.

With her fingers around the trigger, she managed to take the first man down, grazing the next. In her frenzied state, she had just a moment to catch the baton flying towards her face. The pain was immense. The gun slipped from her fingers as she crumbled to the ground, her face cradled in her hands. Heavy boots connected against her side over and over again, her ribs cracking from the abuse. All at once, the beatings stopped. Her breaths came in shallow wheezes as the man in the dark suit approached once more. 

“What do I want?” he said. Hands held her down as her wounds began to heal. Her struggling was so futile at that point that she lay motionless in defeat. “A Nobel Peace prize for one, and I bet with the right bidder, you’d bring in quite a shiny penny.”

“Imagine my surprise, when I came across footage of you, walking out of an infiltration gone wrong. Not one survivor, and yet here you are.” He’d reached down for the forgotten gun at her feet. Moments later, she felt the cold press of the barrel at her temple. “Now why’s that I wonder?” 

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, holding a hand to her ribs. The ringing of a gunshot was the last thing she heard before she blacked out once more. Rising with a gasp, she reached for her head. While her hair was matted with blood, she could feel no wound where the gun had been shot. 

“Fascinating.” He said, reaching for her once more. “Not even a scratch.”

As she watched him clock the gun one more time, it dawned on her. They were going to kill her. Her blood would grace these walls repeatedly until they were satisfied with whatever was happening to her. She struggled against her captives as she screamed for anyone to hear. 

_I should've known  
I'd leave alone  
Just goes to show  
That the blood you bleed  
Is just the blood you owe_

Hours later, when they had grown tired of their use of bullets and knives, Nile was finally given a slight reprieve. She was numb to it all. Crawling away from the puddle of blood they’d left her in, her hands shook as she wrapped them around her body, curling into a protective ball in the corner. Tears slid down her face creating tracts in the grime she knew coated it. 

She closed her eyes to the scene around her, knowing she had to get some sleep before they were ready to come back with whatever else they had in store. As she faded in and out of consciousness, sweet music graced her dreams. She didn’t know who they were, she had seen them numerous times since waking in the van, but their playing eased her into a sense of comfort that she couldn’t help but relish in. Humming along to their nameless tune in her head, she closed her eyes once more.

_We were a pair  
But I saw you there  
Too much to bear  
You were my life  
But life is far away from fair_

**☼☼☼☼☼☼☼**

Andy watched over her sleeping companions within the empty cargo train. It had been days since their last performance. So much had changed in such a short period of tune, Andy was still processing where they were heading next, and why. Their previous mission had ended smoothly enough, but it was clear they were all distracted. Flashes of Niles' face haunted them. What if they had taken too long? What if they lost their chance at finding any more clues as to her whereabouts? It had been more than a millennium since she lost Quynh, the pain still fresh in the reminder of her failure, she refused to lose another. Luckily, with the information they could gather from their last shared vision, Copley had found a lead. They were right in that she was military. They had found word of her unit being lost under enemy fire. This had left both Booker and Copley tracking an armored van's location, rumored to have contained her body. When the van had failed to show at the allotted time for drop off, they'd feared the worse. Further digging had revealed an organization; they were all too familiar with. 

They had crossed paths with the Stein corporation decades ago, preaching notions of harnessing their immortality for the "greater good of mankind." After years of being hunted, they had finally brought the organization to its knees, or so they thought. When they found evidence of the familiar logo on the contract company sent out to receive the bodies, they were confused. How had this organization stayed hidden for so long? How had they found out about Nile, faster than the four of them? 

Andy sighed as she found herself with more questions. Leaning back against the wall, she allowed herself a few minutes of rest. It would be a few hours before they reached the last ping of Niles' location. Andy would need all of her strength for what was to come.

They had only closed their eyes for a few moments before they saw it. Again and again, Niles' death swam across their eyes as she lay motionless with a series of wounds. At first they felt the shot of two bullets to her chest, a familiar metal glide across her neck, but worst of all was the drowning. They watched helplessly as she fought against the water, gasping for air that would not come. It reminded them so much of Quynh's suffering that they felt sick to their stomach.

It was the music that broke them though. After each event, Nile lay there bare for them to see, as she sang what appeared to be one of their songs. The pain in her voice transcended through their shared visions, feeling like a personal blow. There she was, calling for them, and they could do nothing. 

With a startled scream, they all rose from their sleep. Copley watched helplessly as the panic set in. Nicky and Joe clung to one another with a desperation he hadn't seen in a long time. As tears fell from their eyes, comforting words could be heard spoken between the two in Italian and Arabic. Booker fell physically sick. Copley watched as cold sweat glistened against his neck as he retches in the corner. Through it all the sounds of Andy's fists' repeatedly banging against the wall, is what drew him away from the others. By the time he reached her, her hands were a bloodied mess. Whatever they'd seen of the girl throughout the night was taking its toll. 

"We'll find her." Copley said, taking a moment to look at each of them. At some point, they had all gravitated towards one another, close enough to touch. 

"Did you see his face?" Joe called, looking at them all. "It seemed so familiar. That can't be a coincidence." 

They knew then that even if they did kill Stein himself years ago, his lineage still rose with the same ideas and notions against them. If they had any chance of saving Nile, they'd end that line once and for all.

"Okay. Let's go over the plan once more." Andy looked to Copley for their arrival time, signaling Book to pull up the floor plans of the building they assumed held Nile. 

"We have about an hour or two until we reach drop off point. From there, if we can find a car, we should reach the facility before sunrise." Although they had done their best to hit the road as soon as possible, it took days before they could find the correct location. Book spreading the floor plans between them pointed out the key entryways that would be lacking strong security. 

"Joe and Nicky, I want the two of you to head out before us. Try to scope out the location as much as you can without being seen. Any intel you can gather on the security system, or the numbers of bodies we'd be dealing with, will come in handy. As soon as you're out, alert us to your location, and we'll enter together. Copley will be our eyes and ears from a distance. Once Nile is secure, we finish this."

After clarifying a few more details, the five of them lay back down with a weary sigh. Although it was silent, the tension that filled the room could be cut with a knife. Andy closed her eyes as she took up the last few verses of Nile's song. As the others all chimed in, she could feel the weight in the room dissipate. If they listened closely enough, they could hear the hushed sounds of Niles' voice accompanying them. 

_Was I stupid to love you?_

_Was I reckless to help?_

_Was it obvious to everybody else_

_That I'd fallen for a lie?_

_You were never on my side_

_Fool me once, fool me twice_

_Are you death or paradise?_

_Now you'll never see me cry_

_There's just no time to die_

**☼☼☼☼☼☼☼**

Niles' eyes dimmed as she watched the men approach. Over the last few days, she had learned more of her captives. The man at the head of the operation went by Charles Stein. From what she could gather in between his monologues and torture techniques, was his type of crazy had been hereditary. Having read old diary entries of his great grandfather's research, he found evidence suggesting a group of immortals living right under their nose. He had first thought these were the words of a senile old man until rumors spread of Niles' close call with death. In these moments, she wished he'd kill her just so she wouldn't have to see the glint in his eyes when he looked at her.

Conversations had turned to preparations for moving Nile to Merrick corporations tonight, with negotiations from a new buyer. She couldn't handle any more experiments done to her. If anything, this hardened Niles' resolve to escape. In the end she couldn't do that, she'd take them all down with her.

They'd come prepared, guns were drawn as they reached for her wrists. With a swift kick to the legs of the man closest to her, she wrapped her chains around his neck. She held tight, draping his body over her as a makeshift shield. A lone shot grazed her shoulder as she reached for his gun. The pain was nothing she couldn't handle, but it was in those few seconds, she was surrounded. The sharp sting of a taser pressed against her neck, brought her to her knees. Convulsing slightly, she'd readied herself to get back up when she heard the shots. Nile wasn't the only one confused, as moments later, radio chatter came out of intruders within the building.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Yelled Charles, looking to the other guards for answers. At the sound of screams nearing their location, he ordered the remaining guards to grab Nile as they moved to leave.

"No matter what's out there, the girl stays with us," Charles shouted over the noise. While he led the group towards a back exit, the lights blacked out around them. Screams rose as bodies fell around them one by one. The tight grip from the guard that held her disappeared, replaced at once by gloved hands.

"Copley signal the lights." Squinting as the lights turned back on, Nile looked at the dead guards around her. Her eyes zeroed in on Charles Stein's lifeless eyes, his chest having been carved in. Waves of relief fell from her shoulders as she took in her apparent saviors. Three of them stood anonymous before her, black hoods masking their faces.

"Not that I'm not grateful and all, but who are you people? Why'd you save me?" The man at her side pulled off his hood, revealing a wide smile. His olive skin was painted with drops of blood, brown hair plastered against his forehead with sweat.

"I'm Nicholas, but you can call me Nicky. That's Joe, Andy, and you'll meet Booker and Copley later." Nile watched as the other two members removed their hoods. They all looked so familiar.

"That didn't answer my question. Why are you helping me?" These were the people she dreamed of, figures she considered figments of her imagination to deal with the trauma of her capture. Yet here they were, saving her from this prison.

Nile watched as the woman with dark cropped hair walk towards her. There was a sense of aged authority that rolled off her in waves, causing Nile to stand at attention.

"Because you're like us," she said. "Different. Strong." Grabbing a knife from her belt, Andy sliced a portion of her arm, holding it out for Nile to see as the wound closed. For a moment, it was quiet, Nile processing that there were more of her out there. It left her with more questions. Could they explain what was happening to her? Could they fix it?

"Guys, this has been nice, but we have to go. Copley's waiting for us outside with the car and Booker should be done erasing the computer files." Joe had reached for Nicky, dragging them out of the room. Hesitating for only a moment, Nile followed closely behind Andy. She may not trust them completely now, but there was a familiarity she couldn't ignore as she watched them work together.

As they walked outside, a man similarly dressed as the others waited for them. He had dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes that shined when he saw them. He bowed as Nile approached the car. 

"Booker?" she asked. 

"At your service." He said opening the car door for her as the others slipped in. A man she assumed was Copley sat at the wheel. He'd smiled at her through the rearview mirror before gunning it out of the lot. Looking back at the building that had held her captive for so long, a stray thought came to mind.

"What about Merrick?" she said, turning to them all.

"They were getting ready to hand me off to him tonight. He owns this pharmaceutical company." With this new information they all sat silent, contemplating Nile's words. Even if they had erased traces of her stay at the compound, loose ends would still be looking for her. The fight was far from over, but at least she was with them now.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes." Andy sighed, turning in the front seat to look at her. "For now, we know you have questions. Do you want answers?"

**☼☼☼☼☼☼☼**

Weeks later, Nile stood on the empty rooftop of Nicky and Joe’s safe house. She was still adjusting to the new life before her. To her loved ones, she was presumed dead, and yet she could not die. For the last three years, she led a group of marines into the war trodden grounds, now she found herself recruited into a new army of five.

Taking hold of the gold cross that hung around her neck, she wondered how everything had changed so quickly. It wasn’t her newfound immortality that scared her, but the sense of belonging she felt as she looked at her rescuers. Joe and Nicky felt like older brothers she never had, Booker a father figure she’d missed so dearly. Andy was a mystery to her. With Andy’s years of experience, Nile could lean on her as a mentor or sister if the years allowed it, but neither felt right. She could only describe what she felt for the other, as a type of kindred spirit. What she would do with that revelation, she couldn’t know.

As the wind blew threw her hair, she closed her eyes as melodies rose from the floor beneath her. That was another thing. When she found out they had all been part of a band, she was surprised. What was a group of sword fighting immortals doing performing for an audience of strangers?

They had taken a break from their shows to help her settle in this new life and find any leads into Merrick corp. As she got to know them, the years they’ve spent on this earth, the good they’ve continued to do, she was able to see how passionate they were about it. Booker had taken her under his wing when he’d learned she played the piano in the past. There was a comfort that came with playing with them, especially as she learned that their songs had been the one thing that kept her going during her captivity. 

Humming along, she closed her eyes to the setting sun. The sounds of footsteps approaching revealed the gentle smile of Andy, as she stood by Nile.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, leaning against the roof’s railing.

“Just thinking,” said Nile, watching as the sun danced across the other’s face.

“The others are complaining you’re not down there playing with them.” Nile laughed as she finally turned away from Andy.

“That’s not really my thing.”

“Do you want it to be?” Andy asked as she watched her stare out at the sky.

“Look, we know this is all still new to you but, we heard you. In those moments you were with Stein, nothing could get us to you fast enough, then when we heard your voice blending with our own. You fit.” They were silent for a moment, contemplating the other’s words.

“Why do you guys do it anyway?” asked Nile. “Out of everything you could do with this life, why this?”

“It’s therapeutic for us in a way,” she said. “Putting our history down on paper.”

As Andy pushed herself to stand, walking back to the stairs that led back to the others, she paused at the door as she looked to Nile once more.

“It wouldn’t be now, of course, not with Merrick still looking for you, but think about it. You have many years ahead of you, and you’ll need some form of an outlet to ground you through them.” With that said, Andy left the roof, leaving Nile to decide how she would approach her new life. 

**☼☼☼☼☼☼☼**

**Years Later**

Rumors of a new member joining The Old Guard had fans flooding venues in hopes of a glance. It had been said that her voice added a new element to the group they didn't realize it needed. The crowd waited with batted breaths as shuffling could be seen across the stage.

As the music picked up and the lights shined on each individual eyes honed into the female at center stage. She donned a green jacket, the only pop of color added to her dark look of black jeans and boots. Her voice blended effortlessly with Andy’s as they watched the pair dance around the stage, interacting with the crowd. Contrary to the lyrics they sang, the crowd knew that with this new addition, the game was far from over.

_Had enough, I've really  
Had enough  
Had enough of denial  
I'm not alright, but I'm not gonna lie  
I don't know that I ever was_

_All alone, I've waited  
All alone  
Held it in as I played by your rules  
I've been biting my lip, but I'm losing my grip  
I'm coming down, down, down_

_When all the hate burns off, I'm left here with the pain  
Behind our vain devices are we all the same?_

_Ooh-ooh, ah-ah  
Change me into something I believe in  
Change me so I don't have to pretend_

_Take a breath and try to play along  
But I'm a terrible liar  
I feel the world like a brick on my chest  
And the party's just begun  
Throw the rope, I'm wading  
Through the mud  
From your mouth flow a thousand truths  
But you know, there's only one_

_When all the hate burns off, I'm left here with the pain_

_Ooh-ooh, ah-ah  
Change me into something I believe in  
Change me so I don't have to pretend  
Sweet words, they mean nothing, they're not true  
'Cause the game is over_

_I want it all or I want nothing at all  
Maybe I can_

_Change me into something I believe in  
Change me so I don't have to pretend  
Your sweet words they mean nothing, save your breath  
The game is over_

**FIN**


End file.
